


I Have Seen the Fields Aflame

by Desiree_Harding



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, American Politics, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Trans Character, F/M, M/M, Rated Mature for discussions of alcoholism, Recovery, War, and lot and lots of swearing, and war/political unrest/conflict
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-07-11 15:45:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19930525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Desiree_Harding/pseuds/Desiree_Harding
Summary: She hadn’t meant to disappear.Had she known what was going to happen, that one weekend was going to lead to seven entire years without her brother, she never would have gone. But that was all it took.A modern au in which Lup goes missing, and discovers that the coming home is maybe the hardest part of all of it.Originally inspired by an idea of Lup not liking Kravitz that spiralled into so very, very much more.





	I Have Seen the Fields Aflame

**Author's Note:**

> I have been working on this fic for almost 5 months. It is largely the reason that my other projects have been at a bit of a standstill; it gripped me by the collar, and wouldn't let me go until I had recorded it all. It demanded to be written like my lungs demand air.
> 
> That said, some logistics:  
> Mind the tags. There are description of alcoholism, depression, and some mentions of war in this one. I have kept the politically-adjacent material intentionally vague. This is not necessarily set in our world, and any parallels to modern conflict or current events are a backdrop upon which I have written a character-centric story. 
> 
> I hope to the bottom of my heart that you enjoy this fic.

She said she’d always wanted to go abroad, and had better do it when it was on scholarship money rather than her own.

She said she wished Taako could come with her, honest, but it wasn’t like they were in the same degree program; Taako would do better to stay home.

She said it wasn’t going to be forever, that they would hardly know she was gone, that she would Skype twice a week, minimum, and they wouldn’t even miss her.

She said she was having the time of her life, that she was learning so much, and that even if she wasn’t, just being there was enough.

She said she was going away for the weekend. She’d be back in a few days.

She said that the news was sensational, that it wasn’t as dangerous as they all thought.

She said she had friends to look after her.

She said she’d be fine.

Lies can be classified in two categories: those that are intentional, and those that are not. Lup’s fell into the second. It is a testament, perhaps, to her intentions. But intention only goes so far, and lies, however unintentional, still hurt. The things Lup said lingered over the course of years and across continents and seas. The things Lup said took on a life of their own.

The only things that lingered even more were the things she didn’t say. If her words took on a life of their own, the words unsaid took on the lives of others. They took over _her_ life.

Words are vicious things, that way. Had Lup known what they could do, perhaps she would have been more cautious about the way she tossed them around.

But she’d thought she’d had time. She’d thought she’d had a surplus of words, enough to make up for the times she’d gotten them wrong.

By the time she realized she didn’t, it was much, much too late.

*****

She hadn’t _meant_ to disappear.

It was just that she was at the epicenter of _change_ , and she had never been able to stay out of a fight. It was only supposed to be a weekend. Just a few days off from her classes, a trip a few hundred miles down the road. She remembered the skype call, Thursday afternoon, when she told Taako not to worry, and that everything was going to be fine.

And it was fine.

Until it wasn’t.

Had she known what was going to happen, that one _weekend_ was going to lead to _seven entire years_ without her brother, she never would have gone. But that was all it took. One weekend of getting her head completely _fucked_ and her ID lost, and by the time Lup really recovered almost a year had gone by and she was trapped.

Women with no name, no money, and no connections who only half speak the language don’t travel easily in war zones. Lup needed to get home, but she was nobody, she blended into the crowd, couldn’t go back the way she came; no one could. She followed the crowd, fleeing from city to city as bombs fell behind them. She spent days walking dusty roads in bare feet and barely getting enough water to drink.

It was the worst kind of nightmare, thinking she would never see her brother again. Thinking that somewhere, half a world away, he was without her too. That maybe he thought she was dead. That maybe _he_ could be dead and Lup wouldn’t even know. That maybe he was achieving his dream of becoming a world–class chef and Lup had no idea, she was sitting in a refugee camp somewhere and couldn’t _get to him_.

She missed him every time she ate something that excited her, thinking of how he would react to the taste. She missed him when she was frightened, when she was fleeing from cities where bombs were raining down from the sky and she thought about how much she would rather be in his arms.

So many times she tried to cross borders and was unsuccessful. So many times she was turned away. So many times her papers were found out as fake, or she paid for passage across the sea or across the river or across the fence, and the help never came, and she was out all the money she had saved and back at square one. So many times she was tear–gassed and had to wash out her burning eyes and cough through her burning lungs. Lup thought there might be permanent damage. She couldn’t _breathe_ like she used to. But then, it could have been the illness, which came often, and would leave her lying in damp tents for weeks at a time, battling whatever new horror lay deep in her lungs and every day seemed would kill her.

And she would lie awake at night and wonder where Taako was, try to map out every inch of his face, tried to remember as best as she could. It was her face too, so it should have been easy, but the longer she was away, the more years went by where she was trapped in camp after camp, the harder it became. She would hold back tears and cling to whatever scrap of home she could, there in the dark, repeating his name like a mantra until it lost all meaning at all.

And then came the day she stepped out of her tiny tent, hacking up a lung from her latest bout with bronchitis or whatever else it could be, and stopped and stared for a full half a minute at a man: white, pudgy, wearing glasses and dirty clothes, stained jeans that looked straight out of 1980, a fraying backpack on his back, gesticulating at a woman who spoke broken English, and pointing, resolutely, at a small, rectangular paper wilting in his hand.

Lup had thought she must be hallucinating. Because how could he be _here_?

She almost hadn’t dared to say anything; it had to be an illusion. Maybe she had finally lost it, maybe this was the last straw and she was finally off her rocker, maybe this was the way she went – but then he ran his hands through his hair, just the way he always did, and Lup cried out.

“ **_BARRY!_ **”

A broken scream, across fifty feet of smoky, crowded camp, and Barry _turned_ , and –

Before she knew it she was in his arms, in his arms and crying, crying, just absolutely _weeping_ , sobs erupting from her like she had never had air in her life, and Barry’s arms were so _strong_ , and Lup was dizzy.

She woke up on the floor of her tent, a familiar hand in hers and Barry looking at her like he thought she might never wake up.

He found her.

He had been looking for years, had followed whatever clues he could, people she had spoken to, people she had seen. Run up against roadblocks and false leads at every turn, but finally, after what seemed like forever, there she was, and they were together.

They got to a phone, a volunteer nurse’s cell, and Lup _begged_ for a call, when the woman was giving her the antibiotics to heal her from the pneumonia in her lungs, and Lup had cried, and the woman gave in, and Barry called Taako.

Hearing his voice again – Lup cried all the more.

He couldn’t believe they were alive. That Barry found her. He didn’t say that, but he didn’t have to. Lup knew him from the womb, she could recognize disbelief in Taako’s voice anywhere. They only a few minutes before they had to give the phone back, but at least Taako knew they were alive, and they were together, and that they were trying hard, so hard to get home.

It was another eight months before they finally made it across the Mediterranean, their tiny lifeboat almost capsizing, and Barry had documentation for her, when Lup’s had been lost for so long. They hardly had any money and had to beg and plead and work odd jobs and live in hostels and shelters until finally they got the cheapest plane tickets they could back home, and Lup called Taako on a payphone and told her brother that she was coming, and Taako drove all the way down to Atlanta to meet her at the airport, even though the flight was delayed, and it took forever to get there, and before they were allowed to go see him they were pulled aside and questioned, and –

And then _finally_.

Lup walked off a plane, and into her brother’s arms, for the first time in _years_.

And it was so _good_ to see Taako. She missed him, missed him like something was torn out of her chest and every moment she spent away from him was emptier and emptier until she was nothing at all and could waste away at any moment. 

She came up, up off the escalator and _there he was_ , standing nervous in a bright red hoodie and leggings with his hair in a messy bun, looking like he hadn’t slept in _days_ , and Lup dropped all her bags and ran to him and hugged him like there was no tomorrow and Taako buried his face in her shoulder and cried.

And when Lup came out of the embrace, there was Kravitz.

A tall, handsome black man standing by her brother’s side, looking nothing like they belonged in the same _universe_. He was wearing a button–down and slacks, all gray and black and polished dress shoes, suave, and he smiled at her and grabbed a bag without anyone asking him to. He didn’t say a word about Taako walking beside Lup to keep his hands on her, and he led them out of the airport to a sleek, shiny black car that looked like it cost more money than Lup had the entire time she was abroad.

His dreads were perfectly kept, half tied up. His car smelled clean, and Lup and Taako tumbled into the backseat, never a breath between them with all their talking. Kravitz had let Barry in the passenger side, and drove them back to his and Taako’s hotel, took them up to a high floor with a suite–style room and while Lup and Taako collapsed on the couch and cried on each other all over again Kravitz went into the other room and ordered them all something to eat.

Lup hated him that first night. She paid him no mind, none at all, eyes and words only for her brother, and Kravitz was a nameless and faceless interloper on the outskirts of her focus. She had only been introduced to him the next morning, when she came out of her and Barry’s room to find him standing over the hotel coffee–maker, and had asked his name again, groggy, before seeing the ring on his left hand.

 _Taako’s fiancé_ , he introduced himself, and he was immediately revolting to her by virtue of the fact that he had a claim on her brother, when she, for years, had not. He was foreign to her, and therefore distasteful. He was Taako’s _fiancé_ , and he was seemingly made of money and charm and easy wit, and he looked as though he’d never lived a hard day in his life, and he paid for the room and the room service and everything like it was nothing. And Taako came out of his room and kissed him good morning, easy and soft, and Kravitz pulled him close and held him, just as easy, and made Taako’s coffee just the way he liked, and paid Lup no mind. _His_ eyes were only for her brother, too; _his_ hands were on him always. And while Lup was gone Taako found this man, and this man eased into Taako’s life like he always belonged there, and presumed to be Taako’s other half when Taako’s other half was always _Lup_.

It wasn’t _fair_ , and Lup ignored Kravitz for the rest of the trip when she could, as they drove back up to DC, to Taako and Kravitz’s beautiful row house with the parallel parking in front and the guest room upstairs and the original wood floors from 1923. To their beautiful kitchen with marble countertops that Taako picked out himself. To the windows looking out to their little garden in the back, and Taako’s herbs in the window boxes and on the deck, and Taako said he wished there was enough sun for a real vegetable garden but that he liked the house too much to part with it and that old tree in the back was Kravitz’s favorite. There was even a wooden swing hanging from the low, thick branches.

Lup hated it all from the moment she set foot in the door.

Taako let her stay, of course, put her and Barry up in the guest room, which they _had_. And every day he would go off to his restaurant and Kravitz to his law practice. And every night Taako would come home late, tired from the long dinner service, and Kravitz would greet him, reading glasses perched far down on his nose. And they would eat takeout or courier food because they could afford it, because Taako was too tired to cook, and Taako and Kravitz would cover the groceries and the doubled water bill and everything, and told Lup and Barry to stay as long as they wanted.

And Lup absolutely hated it.

She hated how happy they were. She hated the original floors and the tree in the back, the way it started to turn in the fall. She hated the nice weather, and how on the days that Taako took off from the restaurant, Kravitz would take off from the office and they would go out, if it was nice weather, and take a walk around the neighborhood just for the fresh air. She hated their good coffee and their organic groceries and the way Kravitz had such a nice car but would ask in the morning if she needed it that day and if he should leave the key because he didn’t mind taking public transit, really.

Lup _fucking_ hated it.

She hated how their water didn’t go cold after standing in the shower for a full _thirty minutes_ . She hated how they didn’t have noisy neighbors even though their houses shared a wall. How they even had a baby grand in the living room downstairs and sometimes Lup would wake up to Barry playing it and it fucking _killed_ her.

They were so happy. They were so _successful_ . Taako was on the cover of magazines and was winning awards and Kravitz wasn’t famous but he made enough money to live in a _nice house_ in a _nice neighborhood_ in _Washington D.C._ for fuck’s sake. They didn’t have a single care in the entire _world_ and Lup hated them, and then hated herself for hating them, and then hated Taako for making her hate him, and then hated Kravitz for changing Taako and making him make her hate him.

And Taako had changed. He changed and mellowed out and was _different_ now, and in the years she was gone he made a life for himself so that Lup didn’t know him anymore, and there wasn’t a place for her in it.

Taako and Kravitz had good booze, and Lup was welcome to it, so she drank.

At first a bit to calm her nerves, and then a little more to keep quiet when Kravitz came home and Lup had to bite her tongue to keep the spiteful words from spilling out of her and all over his pristine black suit.

Of all the things Lup hated about Taako’s new life, Kravitz was high on the list. How dare he and Taako be so happy when Lup had seen such tragedy in the world? Kravitz was the very _symbol_ of everything Lup couldn’t stand about Taako these days: his fancy suits, his fancy car, even the way he _talked_ in full, old fashioned sentences, like he was too _good_ for the rest of them. All sophistication and stuck–up manners. She hated the way he touched her brother, hated the way he got all up in Taako's space like he _belonged_ there. The way he monopolized Taako's time.

Every minute he was around, his presence grated against her nerves, and Lup would take another swig from whatever bottle she had and avoid even having to _look_ at him.

Barry was no help. He stayed by Lup’s side when he was home, but his concern, his _hovering_ was almost worse than if he just left her alone. When he mentioned to her that she may want to see someone, talk to somebody about what happened, she always brushed him off. What good would it do? Lup had missed _years_ of her brother’s life, had lost so much time. Words couldn’t fix that. No asshole with a degree who’d never left his cushy office could give her back what she’d lost.

One month in Taako’s home turned to two turned to three. Barry went off looking for jobs and Lup sat for days in the home that she despised and wallowed in misery, and when it became too much for her she’d pull out another bottle of wine and drink until it all hurt a little less.

Sometimes she’d cry and didn’t know what for, and sometimes she’d go out back on the swing and sit for hours and not even know that hours had passed. She’d let the cool breeze of the encroaching winter cut into her bones and didn’t _give a shit_ how uncomfortable she was. She couldn’t _think_. The cold helped her feel, at the very least.

Conversations with Taako were strained, and Lup blamed it on his changing and Kravitz changing him, and ignored the gnawing in her gut when she thought too hard about it. The gnawing was too close to guilt, or to pain - something that was too much work to identify.

Taako shot her concerned looks that Lup ignored. Taako suggested looking for something to do, a hobby. Taako suggested _therapy_ , like Lup was some kind of _fragile_ bitch. Lup had dreams in which her eyes and lungs burned and her heart beat wildly and water covered her head and smoke filled her lungs and woke up in cold sweats with nothing to show for it.

Every conversation with anyone felt benign and useless and shallow, and Lup couldn’t understand why. Even talking to Barry felt stilted when their conversations used to be so easy.

And she was so angry. So angry all the time.

When she got sick of wine, Lup picked the lock to Taako and Kravitz’s liquor cabinet and drank Kravitz’s good bourbon. And Kravitz, _fuck him_ , didn’t get upset, just said that it might as well be enjoyed by somebody and that if anyone deserved it, it was her. Fuck him. Lup _did_ deserve it. What did Kravitz ever do that was of any use?

Lup heard him and Taako whispering to each other later that night in the kitchen, and she very vehemently did not think about it.

Candlenights came and went. Taako got Lup a fluffy bathrobe and honest–to–god bunny slippers and a new laptop. Kravitz got her a very nice pair of earrings and a few books to read while she lay around the house. It was _pointed_ is what it was. Calculated. _Get a fucking job, Lup. You’re lazy, Lup. Here, enjoy these since you have so much fucking leisure time._

Lup did enjoy them. She draped the robe over herself and called it self care when she laid on Taako’s stupid white couch for hours. She shoved Kravitz’s presents back deep in a drawer, unable to bring herself to take a lighter to the books in the backyard like she wanted. She put on her slippers and walked to the corner store herself when Taako was out of wine and bought cheap red blends with the cash Barry had squirreled away in their end–table, drank them on Taako’s fucking white couch and toyed with the idea of spilling them just to see what Kravitz would say.

She was in the middle of just one such contemplative session, one day in mid–January, lying upside down on the couch with her hair hanging down over (below?) her head, glaring at the fucking abstract painting in the living room ‒ something _Kravitz_ probably picked out and had lofty _opinions_ about ‒ when a heavy _thud_ from the foyer grabbed her attention.

She looked, and it was Taako. Taako, standing there, grocery bags on the ground and a positively _livid_ look on his face.

“That’s it,” he said, “get up.”

Lup did, but only so far as sitting up on the couch, draping herself over the back of it, bottle of red in her hand.

“Sup, little bro?” she said breezily, laying her head down. Taako rolled his eyes, started unbuttoning his coat and unwinding his scarf from his neck.

“Look at you, Chaalupa,” he grumbled under his breath, “you’re a fucking disaster.”

The low rumble of anger that had settled in her gut kicked up to a quiet roar.

“Fuck you,” she spat, bitterly, and took another swig from her wine bottle.

“No, fuck _you_.” Taako said, somehow even hanging his coat angrily, “I’m not going to just let you sit here and waste your goddamn life away Lup. Get up.”

“Fuck off, Taako,” Lup said, laying her head down and closing her eyes. She felt sick in her stomach, and wasn’t sure if it was alcohol or anger that made her so. “If this is another tactic of yours to get me to go to a fuckin’ shrink again, I appreciate it, but no thanks. I’m good.”

“Sorry, Lulu,” Taako said, voice brusque even though Lup wasn’t looking at him anymore. “But you don’t get to decide that anymore. We tried it your way, now you’re trying mine.” _Patronizing_ , that was how he sounded, Lup decided. Telling her how to live her life.

She decided she didn’t care for it one bit.

“What are you – fuckin’ – _auntie_ now, Taako?” she said, opening up her eyes and sitting up on her knees. Taako’s face was – awful. His eyes burned like hot coals looking at her and her brother never _used_ to look at her like that, not before – before – “You gonna tell me what to do and where to go? You’re gonna be my fuckin’ _babysitter_ , Taako?”

Taako sighed. Exasperation. She’d recognize it on him any day. And what right did he have to be exasperated at her? After everything she saw and he didn’t, he had no right at all. It made Lup’s blood boil.

“If you won’t take care of yourself, Lup, then yes!” he said, throwing an arm out.

“Well _fuck_ you,” Lup said, and stepped off the couch. Woah. Her head was… swooshy. Her body was… something else. She stumbled a little bit, threw her arms out too. “You can’t tell me _shit_ , Taako!” she shouted. She felt _high_ . “I make my _own_ decisions!”

“Are you already fucking drunk?”

“None of your goddamn business!” Lup shouted back.

“God _dammit, Lup!”_ Taako said, collecting up the grocery bags, and moving into the kitchen. His movements were jerky as he began to put things away. “I just _can’t_ with you anymore.”

Lup could’ve sat back down. She could’ve gone upstairs and minded her own business until Barry got home or Taako got over his little tantrum. She could have let it go.

She didn’t.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” she spat at Taako, leaning up against the doorway to the kitchen, and took another drink just to spite him.

Lup watched Taako’s spine stiffen, watched him whirl around and the anger set in his eyes. Anger and something else that made her gut ache. Disgust. That had to be it.

“Not a goddamn thing.” He said, his voice deadly and flat. “In case you haven’t noticed, I actually have my shit together for once in our life.” Taako sighed, ran a hand through his hair. “But you, darling,” he said, his voice still flat and low and _awul_ , “are up shit’s creek without a paddle, and I, frankly, am not going to stand for it anymore.”

 _He_ wasn’t going to stand for it. Like _he_ had any say in what her life looked like. It made something barbed and hot swell up in Lup, stabbing at her insides, and forcing her to retaliate.

“Well thank God for that,” she grumbled, turning around and flopping back on the couch. “Congratulations, Ko,” she sneered, putting as much sugar–sweet malice into her voice as possible, words she’d been thinking for months finally spilling from her lips. “I’m so _proud_ of you for being so put together! Aren’t you just _so special_ , sweetheart, having your life in one piece after everything you went through! It must be _so hard_ being the richest, most _famous_ chef in America.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Taako’s shoulders creep up toward his ears. It made her feel warm.

“You don’t know what you’re saying, Lup,” he said turning away from her, his voice brittle. And Lup could feel her heart beating, and the tone of Taako’s voice, the condescension, the coldness, it made something in her snap.

“I know exactly what I’m saying,” she said, standing up again, swaying on her feet and stalking into the kitchen after her idiot – fucking – goddamn _traitor_ of a brother. “Don’t you _fucking_ tell me I don’t know what I’m saying, you stuck–up –”

“ _Fine!”_ Taako said, whirling around, slamming his hands down on the counter between them, “fine, Lup, you wanna do this? You wanna come at me like this then fine, let me tell you something, babe. You have me _scared to fucking death_ because guess what?! I can’t fucking recognize you anymore! This?!” he gestured to Lup frantically, and Lup took a step back, something in her feeling, feeling – “this is not the sister I’ve known since the day I was _born_ and it’s freaking me the fuck out! I’m at the end of my _rope_ , Lup, and I don’t know what to _do_ with you, because the sister I know would never – ”

“Maybe I’m not the sister you know!!” Lup yelled at him, and it came out louder than she thought, because Taako backed away from the counter – “you think someone can go through what I did and not fucking _change_ , Koko? What are you, fucking _brainless?”_

“I’m not saying you can’t change, Lup, but this isn’t – the things you’re doing –”

“What _things_ , Taako?” Lup snarled, rounding the counter, brandishing her bottle, “taking some fucking time to _recover,_ maybe?!”

“This isn’t recovery, Lulu,” Taako said, backing up into the living room, trying very hard, she could tell, to hold himself tall. Good, Lup thought, he was _losing_.

“This is self destruction,” Taako insisted, voice thin. “And I’m not going to let you _do this_ to yourself anymore.”

Lup was always the stronger one. Lup could always win their fights. She was winning now.

“You can’t tell me what to do,” Lup said, lowering her voice. “And fuck you if you think you can. I don’t care what you think of me, I don’t care if you think I can’t handle myself; you don’t get to make the decision to run my life for me.”

“Lup, calm down, please,” Taako said, looking at her like he – like he was – 

“And that’s another thing!” Lup shouted at him. “You’re going to tell me _you_ don’t recognize _me_ anymore? Who went off and got himself a fancy job and a – a fancy boyfriend and a fucking million dollar house while I was out, facing _death_ on a daily basis, huh Taako? And you’ve got the nerve to tell me _I’ve_ changed?!”

“Lup…” Taako whispered.

“Fuck, Taako!” Lup yelled, gesturing to him, “Look at yourself! You’re a fucking – _Barbie doll_ and you don’t even seem to give a shit!”

“Lup, come on!” Taako pleaded, “you’re not making any sense!”

“I’m making perfect sense. Fuck you and how goddamn happy you are!” she yelled at him, “I was about to _die,_ every day, and did you fucking _care?!_ You abandoned me, your family, to trade up to your little dream–house life, and now that I’m back you wanna bring me with you into your gentrified bullshit? But only when it’s _convenient_ , huh? You’re not going to let me be fucked up about the shit I saw because that’s not pretty enough for you, is it ‒ you, you fucking - well guess what? _I’ve_ got more than two brain cells to rub together and I’m not falling for your bullshit!”

Lup might’ve been crying, and her throat was raw, and she was so, _so_ angry she couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t think, Taako was just standing there in his goddamn hundred–dollar leggings and looking at her like she was – like she was a crazy person. Her own brother. And he was backing away. Her own brother, who thought she was so revolting he wouldn’t even stand to be close to her.

And Lup _hated him_.

“Fuck you!” She screamed at him, “Fuck you and your goddamn house! And fuck your fiancé too! I can’t fucking stand him and I can’t stand you and how shallow you are – fucking – just going for the first pretty face with a big enough wallet for you!”

Taako was crying. Lup didn’t stop.

“You’re so goddamn _stupid_ , Taako! You're a vapid, empty piece of shit! You're a hypocrite! Fuck, Taako! If I had known this was you I’d never have come back at all! You privileged fuck! If I’m not good enough for you, fine!! Go fuck off to your goddamn _fiancé,_ go suckle his fucking cock and **_leave me alone!_ **”

And she was so angry – she was so _angry,_ looking at him, just standing there staring at her, that she didn’t think. She wanted nothing more than to get his eyes _off_ of her, and there was a weight in her hand, and Lup just _hurled_ it at him.

The bottle missed. It smashed into pieces against Taako’s white wall inside the foyer, and the glass went everywhere, and Taako flinched, and gasped, and then it was quiet and there was wine on the nice carpet and the couch and the wall and the floor and–

And something in Lup’s brain clicked, and it was like someone had poured ice water all down her back.

“…oh my god, Taako, I’m so – I’m so sorry.” Lup whispered, and there was a ringing in her ears and everything felt far away and Taako just looked at her with his expression blank. “Taako?” she said again, her legs shaking beneath her as she tried to go to him, but Taako just shook his head, turned around, “Taako wait,” but he was leaving, he was walking out the front door – “Taako please, Taako I didn’t mean – ”

Taako was gone.

And Lup didn’t hear anything, she didn’t think, she didn’t breathe, she just….

 _Fell_.

*****

She didn’t think Taako was going to come back.

When Barry came home he scooped her off the floor, out of the puddle of her own tears, and Lup was too far gone to appreciate the feeling of his arms around her.

When Kravitz came home, it was already dark, and Lup fell into him and gripped his coat with white‒knuckled hands and begged him to go find her brother and bring him back, until he turned on his heel and the door closed behind him and he was gone.

When Taako came home, Lup threw her arms around him and wept all the more, and Taako, wonderful, beautiful Taako sighed and said,

“Come on, Lulu, let’s get you cleaned up.”

*****

Sitting atop the stairs, feet cold on Taako’s original 1923 hardwood floors, elbows on her knees, made Lup feel small and young and foolish. It took her back to foster homes and auntie’s house, listening into the adults talking downstairs while she and Taako clung to each other for dear life.

But Taako wasn’t sitting beside her this time. And Lup wasn’t a child. Her body was filled out, not gangly and awkward, all elbows and knees. She felt older. She felt sick.

Time moved so quickly when she was angry. Now, with nothing in her but this cold, lonely feeling all up and down her spine and in her belly, it dragged like cold molasses out of a gravy boat. Slow, slow, slow. Every second felt like it would take a year.

“Really though, thank you for everything,” Barry’s voice came from downstairs, and Lup perked up ever so slightly, listening. “I know she hasn’t been… very good to you.” Talking to Kravitz. About her. Lup grimaced for a moment, thinking of the state of Taako’s living room. The clean‒up would be… extensive.

“Well, I don’t know what I expected.” Kravitz’s voice, clipped and strained, cut through the air, and a few days ago it would have been everything Lup ever wanted. Proof that Kravitz thought she was a waste, that she was nothing. Reason enough to hate him.

Now her heart just dropped. There was no satisfaction in hating Kravitz anymore. One wine bottle smashed against a wall and suddenly all the fire was taken out of her. Toward Taako and his fiance. Towards the money and the swing in the backyard and the white paint on the walls. It was just… gone.

There was a heavy sigh, and the sound of something being set down in the living room. And then Kravitz’s voice again, so tired and beat down. Beat down by _her_.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be like…” Lup waited. Like _what?_ “I’m _not_ going to be upset with her,” Kravitz said, like a mantra. “I _won’t_.”

Barry snorted. “She’s not a china doll, Kravitz. She can take it if you are.”

“Clearly not very well.”

The sound of a spray bottle. Lup guessed he was probably working on the rug. Or the couch. _Taako’s_ rug and couch. Who was she to ruin Taako’s things? He was always wishing for nice things when they were little. They both did. They would daydream about them together. And now he had them. Why should Lup be mad?

_Because you dreamed about them together, and Taako got them all by himself._

_Stop_ _it_ , Lup told her thoughts, _don’t go there_.

There was another strained exhale from downstairs, and a _thunk_ of something hitting the floor.

“I _just_ want Taako to be alright.” Kravitz’s voice was drawn thin, stretched to breaking. Lup abruptly wondered if he’d changed out of his suit yet. No, he hadn’t. He hadn’t been upstairs. “He’s been stressed out of his _mind_ and I know he’s so – he’s so _happy_ that she’s _alive_ , I mean, we thought she was dead! For _years!_ Do you know how long it took him to even _tell_ me about her?” Lup could almost see Barry’s face, his sympathetic listening nod. He had the nicest listening face. Lup could almost see it.

“She’s back, and he was so happy, and I _know_ it’s good for him to have her back home but Jesus Christ,” Kravitz was getting worked up, in his own hushed little way. It fit, Lup thought, as though watching it from far away. Someone like him didn’t get quite as explosive as she or Taako did. She had thought his quietness was a lack of feeling, but this – 

“He’s back in weekly therapy, which is _fine_ , because God knows with everything that’s happening here we all need help, but I caught him _smoking_ again tonight, Barry–” Taako was _smoking?_ Since when? “–and I don’t know how many he went through today because I didn’t check and I –”

“Kravitz,” Barry said, stopping the stream of words. Lup physically leaned forward to hear better, no breath in her lungs. “Take a breath.” 

It was shaky, but she heard him do it.

“It’s gonna be fine, okay?” Barry said, “Taako’s gonna be okay, and Lup’s –” she could hear his voice catch on her name and she could _die_ “– gonna be okay, and you and I are gonna be okay.” There was something like heavy breathing coming from the couch, and Lup wondered if Kravitz was crying.

“Look, bud, I know that look. And you can’t – you can’t make yourself responsible for all this.” Barry said. “You and Taako have already done so much for us –”

“You don’t have to –”

“Shut up and let me thank you.” Kravitz shut up. “Even if you didn’t do anything else, you’ve done enough. I don’t know a lotta guys who would give up their dream job just to get a house with a guest room. And reschedule a wedding around the maid–of–honor.”

“Anyone would do that,” Kravitz said, _definitely_ crying now, “you can’t have a wedding without one.”

“Bullshit, but it’s your wedding.” There was a rustling of fabric, and the sound of someone sitting down on the floor. “Look, all I’m saying is that if you stopped making room for us tomorrow you would’ve done enough. But I know you’re gonna keep doin’ it. So. Thank you.”

“Barry –”

“ _Shut up_ and let me thank you, Kravitz.”

“...You’re welcome.”

“God,” Barry scoffed, and Lup heard him sit heavily back against something. “It doesn’t even sound fake coming from you.”

There was a long pause. And then that pause wasn’t a pause anymore, it was a full stop. The downstairs fell quiet, and then Lup was left alone at the top of the stairs, sitting like a child, and her brain whirring a thousand miles an hour.

It is a rare opportunity to truly listen in to a conversation about you. Lup knew this, and she sat on those stairs, chin in hand, and turned over the words they said again and again in her head until they were soundless and shapeless and held no information. Nothing but meaningless data that she didn’t have the tools to decipher.

And then the revelations came flooding in all at once.

_Do you know how long it took him to even tell me about her?_

_Give up their dream job to buy a house with a guest bedroom…_

The icy feeling that had been following her around since her fight with Taako culminated here, and Lup almost gasped from the intensity of it.

Lup had always been rough edges and raw power, pushing ahead and giving no fucks and saying to hell with anyone who tried to hold her down.

This was the first moment in her life when she really, truly felt ashamed.

She had convinced herself, for so long, that Taako didn’t care for her _enough_ , that he didn’t do enough for her, when the whole time, he had been shaping his life all around her, and she didn’t even know. Taako bought a house so she could have somewhere to stay. Taako’s fiancé… _somehow_ left behind his dream job for the sake of buying the house so she could have somewhere to stay. Taako and Kravitz had wedding plans, and they cancelled them and postponed getting married so _Lup_ could be a part of it. When were they _supposed_ to be married? How long had they been waiting, because of _her_?

Taako, try as she might to deny it, was in _love_ with Kravitz. And he was _never_ the type to go for a long engagement. It was probably _killing_ him, not marrying the man he loved. Having to wait.

Taako went back to weekly therapy.

Taako started _smoking_.

Lup cried.

She cried for Taako, and she cried for Kravitz, and she cried for all the harm she had done to them. Because she had done so much, and she hadn’t known. She’d never known at all. She’d never paid attention.

There is a moment in everyone’s life, when the clouds part from their vision and they feel they really _see_ the world for the first time; every choice they’ve ever made and everything they’ve ever suffered is laid out before them, and behind it rests a yawning, terrifying abyss, dark as night and just as infinite. And they see, for the first, and perhaps the only time, the sum of themself, and they see how much and how _little_ time they have, and they are given a choice of where they will go next, and of who they will become.

This was Lup’s moment.

And she made her choice.

“Lulu?” Taako’s voice comes from behind her, and Lup turns. She can see the moment when he registers that she was crying, and she hates the way his eyes dim a little, the little crease it adds to his brow. He licks his lips. He’s nervous. Taako shouldn’t be nervous around her.

But he plasters on a half a smile, and Lup loves him for it.

“Bath’s ready,” he says, cocking his head toward the bathroom door, and Lup pushes herself off her top step, taking the hand Taako put out to brace her. She goes to the bathroom door and Taako doesn’t follow, and the bottom of Lup’s stomach drops out and she says, before she knows it,

“Aren’t you coming?” And she feels stupid and childish for needing him there, even now, for squeezing even more out of him after everything she’s – 

“Of course, Lu,” Taako says, leaning up against the wall, and his eyes are searching even as he tries to joke. “I was just kind of hoping I could _not_ be there for the part where you get naked, is all.”

Lup almost laughs. It’s almost a good joke. There’s almost less space between them. But it’s still there. Deeper and wider than the sea. They’re foreign, now, might as well be living on opposite ends of the planet for how close they are. She nods, weakly. She _feels_ weak.

Taako looks at her all strange and searching some more and then he pushes himself off of the wall. 

“Hey,” he says, all soft, “I’ll still be here, okay? I’m right outside the door. I won’t even close it.”

She nods again. She doesn’t know when she became so fragile. Sometime between seven years ago and now. Seven and a half. Right. She’s been home for a while, hasn’t she?

She flinches when Taako puts a hand on her shoulder, squeezes. 

“Come on, Lu,” he says, “you’ll feel better.”

Lup tries to shake the clouds from her head, nods again, and moves past Taako into the bathroom. It smells heavily of lavender and rose and Taako’s added bubbles to the bath. Lup immediately feels her shoulders release ever so slightly, and she slowly strips off her clothes, feeling for the first time in hours just how _gross_ she is, all sweaty and sticky. God. The steaming water looks more and more enticing by the second.

Taako’s bathroom is nice. Lup knows the tub is deep and big enough to submerge almost her whole body. It’s a luxurious room, all white tile and marble countertops by the dual sinks. Fancy in the way that yesterday had her pissed off at him. Now, she’s thankful for the luxury of it, in a selfish way. She hasn’t allowed herself to indulge. For a moment, she lets her thoughtfulness drain away and steps, shakily into the tub.

The water is hot enough to sting on her skin, but it makes her feel _alive_ as her feet breech it, and she settles in, sitting down and leaning up against the sloped back. She can almost feel the tension draining out of her as she lets the water just take her. Take her weight physically, mentally, and emotionally. Taako’s even folded a towel, perched it on the side of the tub behind her head like a pillow.

She sinks in and sighs. The water’s silkier than normal water, fragrant and slippery. He must’ve put something more than just the bubbles it.

Taako peeks around the corner, and, seeing she’s in the bath, pads into the room. He collects up her clothes and throws them out into the hallway, and then settles down next to the tub on his knees.

And then his hands are on her shoulders, and Lup positively _melts_. 

They used to take care of each other like this. A long time ago, before Lup went away. Before everything changed between them. Before Lup changed it. Taako used to take care of her, back in the day, used to hold her and comfort her when she was sad or stressed or even just had a bad day. He wouldn’t go soft like that for anybody else, only her, and there was never anything between them.

Lup’s looking at him now. Haloed by the bathroom lights, he looks like an angel. But he’s different. There are two Taako’s in Lup’s life, the one in her head, and the one in front of her eyes, and they don’t match up anymore. One of them is well worn in, clutched to her in lonely, terrified nights. Hers. And she knew no one better.

She’d known that Taako was a figment. She’s known for a while. The Taako in front of her only resembles him in surface ways. She’d just been so caught up in the memory of him she’d neglected to realize that he was _here_. 

Her Taako, the one she held close on those nights miles and miles from home, was a tool, a cardboard cutout compared to her _real_ brother.

She can feel his hands, rough from kitchen work, covered in a few dozen tiny scars, nicks and small burns and everything that comes with gourmet cooking. He’s got wrinkles now, not noticeable, except maybe to her. Small lines around his eyes or on his forehead. Taako’s hands leave her shoulders and he reaches for a bottle by the side of the tub and Lup studies his face closely, the little series of tiny lines between his eyebrows from the way their face crinkles when they worry.

He’s so much like her, and so different.

Perhaps the real difference comes from the fact that for the first time in her life, Lup has to share him. For the first time, he isn’t hers, and hers alone. There are people in his life who need him, who he needs, who he _wants_ to be there for, people who aren’t her.

And perhaps, too, there’s a difference that comes with both of them having faced the world alone, now. Back in their childhood, trauma was easy to share. The things that hurt them hurt them together. They were bound by fear and perseverance, but now...

There’s a little knock on the doorframe, and all of a sudden, Barry pokes his head around it. He’s holding a little tray, and on it there’s two mugs and two tall glasses of water. Lup looks at him, too, like she’s seeing him for the first time. She wants to kiss him. She can’t remember how long it’s been since she did.

“Thanks, Barry,” Taako says, dipping his hands into the tub water and wiping them off with a towel before he walks to the door and takes the tray from him. He brings it back, sets it on the floor, and Barry is gone.

It’s tea in the mugs. Lup can see the way Barry made it with too much milk, just like she likes.

Taako holds out a towel for her to wipe her hands, and Lup brings them up out of the water, dries them, and takes the tea. It’s warm and smooth on her tongue, and tastes beautiful. Taako goes back to washing her hair. Lup can’t remember when he started.

Why has she been so angry with him? Because she had to share him, all of a sudden? When for years, Lup’s been splitting her time between her brother and Barry, or at least she was when they were all still together. And Lup loves Barry. She has for a long time. Where does she get off being upset that Taako found something of the same?

He suddenly looks so tired, taking care of her like he is, and Lup is full to bursting of something terrible and heavy.

She bursts.

“I didn’t mean those things I said about you,” she says, and hears Taako sigh. He doesn’t answer, which is Taako for _yes you did, but it’s too mean for me to say that back and I’m not ready for “it’s okay” yet_. She never gets sighs from him. Never used to anyway. She realizes that there have been a lot of sighs lately.

Suddenly it’s the most important thing in the world to her for Taako to know that she may have meant them when she said them, but – 

“I’m sorry,” she says, feeling tears come to her eyes, “I want to say that wasn’t me, but I –” she’s been crying so much today. She’s surprised there are any tears left, “– I don’t _know_ what’s me and what isn’t anymore, Koko. I don’t _know_.”

“Lup,” Taako says, and the heartbreak that lies thick in his voice makes her cry all the more.

“I don’t think those things about you,” she says, reaching out and placing her hand over his, making him look at her. His eyes are lovely. They’re just hers, but they’re not. For some reason, Taako’s soul dresses them differently. She loves him, so much. “I don’t think you’re stupid or shallow or vain, and I’m sorry I said it,” she whispers.

“I want you to know you’re my favorite person in the whole entire world,” she says, “no matter where I am.” She gets all choked up for a second and can’t talk anymore, and Taako reaches with his other hand and gives her a drink of water. He strokes her hair until she can breathe again. Lup pushes on.

“You – you’re my _heart_ , Taako,” she says, “you really are, and I’m sorry I forgot that.” She puts down her tea and grabs his other hand, until he’s been hauled down close to her, eyes wide with shock, and he can’t look anywhere but at her. “You’ve always been the most important. Always. I don’t ever – don’t ever wanna hurt you like that again, ok? And you can trust me, because I’m sober this time,”

“Shhhhhhh, Lup,” Taako soothes, one hand going back to her hair. “I know, okay?”

“I just don’t want you to _hate me_ ,” she says.

Taako shakes his head, something terrible and sad in his eyes, and _Lup_ put it there, and she wonders when she’ll ever stop hurting him.

“I could never,” Taako says, “I’m going to be pissed at you sometimes but I will _never_ hate you, Lulu,” he says. “I promise.” He lets go of her hands, and she’s still shaking and heaving a little, but Taako just pushes forward, continues washing her hair. “We’re good,” he says, “we’re always good, Lu, you know that.”

“I thought maybe this time I fucked it up,” she whispers.

Taako shakes his head.

“No way, goofus,” he says, “you need to do a lot worse than that to chase ol’ Taako away.”

By the time she climbs out of the bath, having drunk a full cup of tea and a glass and a half of water, scrubbed clean, hair washed and conditioned and brushed out a hundred times by Taako’s deft hands, Lup almost feels like herself, if not for the heaviness in her heart and in her limbs.

Taako makes her lay down in his bed, and before Lup can protest he turns off the lights and slips in next to her, curling around her like he hasn’t in years, not since they were frightened teenagers in the particularly bad foster homes. He lays facing her, brushes the stray hairs out of her face. And just the sight of him, so close, so loving, sets Lup off all over again.

“I’m sorry,” she says, “I’m sorry for everything.”

“It’s okay, Lulu,” Taako whispers in the dark, the sounds of the street below intruding into their little cocoon. “I told you. We’re okay.”

“I don’t know who I am anymore, Taako,” she says, and she feels a tear slip down her cheek. “I don’t recognize myself.”

“I recognize you,” Taako says fiercely, and he grips both her hands in his. “I recognize you, and we’re going to make this work, Lup. We are. Starting tomorrow, okay? You’re going to recognize the _shit_ out of yourself. Just let me help you, okay?” And Lup shuts her eyes and breathes in the dark and the quiet and she still feels like she’s buried underneath twelve feet of earth for all the weight in her chest, but she says,

“Okay.”

*****

It’s slow going, of course, but after that explosive night, things get better, in their own plodding, gradual way.

Taako makes her go off the alcohol right away. And Lup can’t say she blames him, but those first few days of the withdrawal are… hellish. She’s not completely laid out – she wasn’t _that_ far gone – but a headache sticks with her just about nonstop for a week, and she’s so _tired_ all the time, and her stomach feels absolutely _mutinous_. Taako has a hard time getting her to hold anything down.

Occasionally she asks him, nearly _begs_ him, for just one glass of _something_. The shattering in his eyes every time she asks is enough to shut her up. For a while. But that while is longer each time, until she’s not hardly asking at all anymore.

She pretends not to notice Taako getting rid of all the alcohol in the house. Pretends not to notice that Kravitz’s glass of red after work that he used to indulge in on long days simply… doesn’t happen anymore.

It makes her feel fragile, in a way, having to have someone _physically_ remove the temptation. As though Lup doesn’t have any self control and needs people to take care of her.

When she expresses this to Taako he just scoffs and rolls his eyes, like she’s being an idiot. Weirdly, it doesn’t hurt her feelings that much.

“Lup,” he says, “it’s not about _weakness_ , you dumbass. It’s because if you’re not going to be drinking I’m going to fucking do it with you. It’s _solidarity_.”

And that almost makes a weird kind of sense. It has her zoning out of her book for the rest of the day, anyhow.

And god, that’s another thing. Talking to Taako. Talking to Taako and not having it feel like pulling nails or pulling teeth. Talking to Taako and not wanting to strangle him. It’s old, and it’s new again. Lup hasn’t talked to him like this in almost eight years. It’s like… it’s like a balm for the soul. Just hearing his voice. Just reaching out and having him answer. Sometimes when she thinks about it she starts to cry.

She cries a lot these days.

Taako lets her sit at home for two weeks and wallow and take two showers a day and sleep a bunch and never wear anything but comfy pajama clothes, and then he makes her go to therapy.

And Taako had been telling Lup for months before to go to a therapist, and Lup hadn’t wanted to, and hadn’t listened, and had thought of the whole thing as a useless exercise.

But.

Taako had a therapist – _has_ a therapist, present tense – which is the only reason that Lup agrees to go. Because Taako recommended his own personal therapist, because Taako had vouched for her. Taako doesn’t make her dress up but he does make her shower and put on a pair of leggings rather than sweatpants and lets her borrow a cozy sweater and a pair of heeled boots.

“Armor,” he says to her, tossing her a pretty red coat that she only distantly realizes is new, “if we’re going to admit how fucked we are on the inside, we’re going to look damn good on the outside.”

Lup wants to say it’s disingenuous, but then she realizes that they’re not going to be fooling anyone.

The bright red coat makes her sit a little taller in the passenger’s seat, though. Or maybe it’s her imagination.

*****

Istus’s office is simple, probably meant to be comforting, but Lup’s first thought is that she has nowhere to hide.

White walls, like Taako’s fucking house. Floors of light–colored wood. White couch, too, but what pops is the brightly colored throw blankets on it, in a loose knit with thick, fluffy yarn, every color of the rainbow. The throw pillows, with knit covers around them. Bright and meant to be inviting, Lup would think. She’s not sure if they’re inviting at all.

“You must be Lup,” comes a low voice, and when Lup looks, there she is. Dr. Istus.

She’s not much like Lup was expecting.

Istus wears cozy colorful sweaters that it looks like she knits herself. She’s _always_ knitting, and she never takes any notes. She doesn’t ask Lup about her past, just about how she’s feeling, amd what she thinks could be causing it, and how she thinks she’d like to feel. Somehow everything from the past eight years comes out anyway.

Taako asks her in the car how she likes Istus, and when Lup answers indistinctly, he says they can look for someone else if need be.

Lup surprises herself when she says, “oh no, please don’t.” And Taako perks up next to her.

“Really?” He says, looking at her as best he can when he’s driving. And then, “that’s… great.”

*****

Istus doesn’t make notes while Lup’s in the room unless she says something particularly profound, but she’s got a legal pad of careful, organized handwriting.

When Lup asks Istus why she’s always knitting, she tells her that she’s got attention deficit and it’s easier for her to listen if she’s got something to do with her hands. That after years of using it to zone in, her hands know the motions without thinking, leaving all kinds of brain space to think about their conversations.

It’s the first time that it occurs to Lup that therapists had their own brain struggles too. That Istus’s whole thing about coping mechanisms isn’t just from books, it’s personal.

Lup tries to pick up knitting, but it doesn’t suit her. Once her hands are busy, her legs get restless. Istus suggests working out.

It’s not the worst idea, Lup thinks.

She finds a gym near Taako’s house, just wandering around one day. There’s a woman in there, a trainer, built like a brick shithouse, who kicks her ass during her free trial session. Lup hasn’t been so tired, just full body tired, in months. But when she stumbles out of the gym, sore legs shaking, she realizes that she feels… light. It’s the first time in years she’s felt that way.

She takes one day off and then she’s back, early as they open, practically knocking down their door.

*****

She hates the meetings, at first, but she puts up with them. 

*****

Magnus moved down from New York a few years ago, when he heard where Taako had gone. Merle too, the old man. Lup doesn’t know why she hasn’t spent more time with them. She’s been home for almost nine months.

He smiles at her and gives her a bear hug when they meet in the Riverside park that Taako and Kravitz are so fond of for a picnic. Later, when the others go for a walk, he pulls her aside under a tree and tells her about how he’s changed, too.

*****

Lup realizes, sitting there one day, that she’s not thinking about acting normal. She’s just… existing. Taako’s cooking dinner, and Lup revels in the feeling of getting up off the couch and walking into the kitchen and asking him what he’s got planned for their meal tonight. She revels in the feeling of Taako not looking at her as she answers, but not in an avoidance way. Just in the way someone doesn’t look at you when they’ve got something important under their hands.

*****

Taako cries when he tells her Lup about the night he left New York. And he cries even more when he tells her about his first sous–chef, Sazed.

Lup, for once, holds _him_.

She’s not the only one who’s seen tragedy in the last eight years, she thinks. Not even close.

*****

Killian’s out sick one day when Lup shows up to the gym. She forgot to text Lup to tell her. Her girlfriend, though, is more than capable, and she and Lup get on like a house on fire. Carey invites her out for drink and smiles when Lup says she’d like to bring her boyfriend along.

*****

Lup tells Istus that her life feels purposeless. Istus looks at her with those wise, deep blue eyes.

*****

She and Barry go on dates now. They learn little corners of D.C. that become their favorites just like Taako and Kravitz have.

*****

She has a bad day, picks up a six pack from the drugstore a couple blocks away and drinks her way through it before Barry gets home.

The disappointment in his eyes when he sees her is enough that she bursts into tears.

She goes to bed with him, so when Taako gets home, he won’t see her drunk. But she knows by the look in his eyes the next morning when she comes down for breakfast before the gym that he knows.

“I’m sorry,” she says, not looking at him.

Taako slides an omelet onto her plate. She worried him. He only makes omelets with the good cheese when he worries.

“Call me next time,” he says. Lup tells him she will.

She doesn’t.

*****

One day, Lup realizes that Carey and Killian aren’t just her trainers, they’re her friends. And then she realizes they’re the first friends she has here that Taako doesn’t know.

*****

The thing that still pisses her off, that sends her spiraling into bitterness and anger and despair, is the news.

The news gets to her. All the terrible things happening in the world and all the stuck–up, no–good panelists who sit and talk about it when somebody should be _doing_ something. She’s always having to shut it off, sit somewhere and stew until someone like Barry or Taako can pull her out of it.

But she can’t stop watching. It feels wrong not to know.

*****

Kravitz loves her brother almost as much as she does, maybe, _maybe_ just as much. She can see it now. He's a huge dork, and one look from her brother can melt him into a puddle, in his own quiet way. She can see, now, how good they are together, now that her mind is clearer. She can see all the kind little ways they fit.

She teases Taako about having found himself a nerd too, and sticks her tongue out when he flips her off.

She knows, objectively, that Kravitz doesn't _know_ all the bad things she thought about him in her head. Doesn't know what she said about him in that fight with Taako. But it sticks with her, the way she made his life hell for months just.... just because. She didn't have a reason. She feels prickly and sick when he walks in the room, when she thinks about how awful she was and how he bore it, for Taako, because he loves him, and Taako loves her.

One day, in the kitchen, she stands in front of him and apologizes for it, even the things she never said. She writes out every word beforehand so she doesn't forget anything. Her hands shake the whole time and she knows her face is red.

Kravitz blinks at her behind his reading glasses like he didn't expect it at all, and that, perhaps, is what hurts the most about it.

*****

Lup begins to learn faces at the meetings. She notices those faces recognizing her. After a while, she gets their numbers, some of them. She thought it would be all middle‒aged businessmen and gross old lawyers and shit, but there’s far too many twenty‒somethings who had a bit of a hard time in school and found themselves self‒medicating.

One day, when the meeting ends, she asks some of them out for… not drinks. They end up grabbing frozen yoghurt because one of the girls is on a diet and well… can justify the lighter option.

It’s nice. Childish in the best way. Lup delights in the fresh strawberries and cold gummy bears that are tough under her teeth.

She gets a few of their numbers. They don’t say they’re going to make a tradition of it, but at the next meeting, the young red‒haired one asks afterward if Lup is free.

*****

Lup teases Taako about finding himself a nerd, just like her, and sticks her tongue out when Taako flips her off. His smile speaks for itself.

*****

Barry’s time abroad was no walk in the park either, of course. When she finds out he’s been hiding his recurring nightmares from her, she thinks her heart might break.

She tells herself she’s not going to be so blind again.

*****

“Purpose isn’t something that’s just gifted to you, Lup. You have to make it for yourself.”

*****

Noelle is nice. She has a hard time with the whole… wagon… thing. Her family runs a cider company. Lup recognizes the label from the grocery store. A DUI accident cost her the leg, though, she says, and that’s when she had to stop. 

Lup finds herself inviting Noelle to the gym.

*****

It takes a lot of convincing to try to get Taako to start planning his wedding again. But he and Kravitz have been making such _eyes_ at each other, and Lup can feel, in the air, the way they’re longing for it. They work so hard, and they’ve been through so much, and Lup knows they’re just dying to go ahead with it.

Taako postponed his wedding so she could be a part of it, and Lup can’t let him put it off any longer. She takes his hands in hers and promises in a year’s time, she’ll be well enough.

She half overhears the hushed conversation between them later that day, can identify the quiet elation in Kravitz’s voice, and all at once everything she's done feels worth it.

*****

It comes to her one day at the gym. No trainer today, no Noelle, just Lup and a treadmill and music blaring in her ears. When it hits her, she’s so overcome with the thought that she almost forgets to run.

It feels crazy, but then the more she thinks about it, the more it makes sense.

*****

“Have you thought about getting a job, Lup?” Istus asks her, and Lup squirms from her spot on the couch.

“Taako’s been taking care of things,” she admits sheepishly, “but I’ve been thinking about it. I have an idea, I just… I don’t know if I can do it yet.”

“Care to share?” Istus says, and she looks genuinely curious.

Lup shakes her head.

“No,” she says, “I don’t… I’m working on it, I swear, I’m just… not ready.”

*****

The idea fixes everything, is the thing. It makes her swell up inside and doesn’t make her mad and sad at the world anymore, or if it does, it does so in a way that feels _productive_ , and she likes it.

She runs it by Team Sweet Flips first, so named after Noelle kicked Carey’s ass at a very late 2000s‒esque “parkour” contest between friends (if Lup and Carey got on like a house on fire, they took to Noelle like a natural disaster). They look at her funny, and Lup’s heart sinks to her shoes.

“That bad?” she asks. Killian is the first to shake her head.

“No,” she says mildly, “I was just thinking it kind of fits you.”

“Guess I’m getting you a briefcase for Candlenights,” Carey jokes. Lup has a sudden vision of herself in a smart suit, briefcase in hand, and she almost cries from how beautiful it is.

*****

She doesn’t tell Taako. Something about this is hers. Not for his ears.

If all goes well, he’ll find out soon enough.

It’s just… about time Lup took some ownership.

*****

Kravitz is sitting at the kitchen table when Lup gets home, his brow furrowed and papers spread out over the whole surface of the wood, pen in hand, and glasses on. He really is handsome, she thinks, the sun falling over his dreads and his skin and pulling out the warmth in them. He’s so soft like this, in his own way. He’s got gentle hands, and they’re at their gentlest with Taako. She smiles. Her brother deserves a man with gentle hands. She’s glad he found one.

She’s getting off track. She drops her bag on the floor so he knows she’s there, and he looks up.

“Hey,” she says.

“Good afternoon, Lup.” He pushes his glasses up onto his head, and he smiles a little at her. _Good afternoon_. He’s such a fuckin’ dork.

And yet Lup almost loses her nerve, looking at him, so refined and put together. She’s afraid. She hasn’t… she hasn’t _wanted_ something like this in so long, hasn’t _wanted_ something more than just to get home or to drink herself into a stupor in so long. Wanting something like this is… scary.

She grabs a glass of water from Taako’s fridge, the fancy dispenser and everything, and mustering up all the courage she can, she sits down at the table across from Kravitz, who raises his eyebrows. But he still puts his papers aside, patient, and Lup thinks for the thousandth time how _good_ he is, even though to him, she must seem like the strangest person in the entire world.

“How was the gym?” he asks, ever patient, and Lup shrugs.

“Alright, I guess. I think it helps. Makes Istus happy, so…” she trails off. That came out grimmer than she wanted it to. She grimaces.

“Well, it certainly… I mean, just from Taako’s and my perspective, it seems to be…” God, it’s still so awkward between them. “Maybe I shouldn’t finish that sentence.”

“It’s ok,” Lup says. It’s quiet. It’s horrible.

 _Get to the point, Lup_.

“Hey Kravitz,” she says, a touch too loud, and her voice shaking a little. “How much school did you have to go to for your whole uhh… your whole thing?”

“For my job?” he asks. She nods, not looking at him, looking at her nails. Kravitz chuckles a little. “Far too much. Why do you ask?”

Lup shrugs, heart pounding what feels like a thousand beats per second; she’s _dying_. She’s trying so hard to look nonchalant.

“No reason,” she says, and she can feel the nervous sweat in her underarms and on her hands. “I was just… thinking that maybe I’d like to give it a try, is all?”

Kravitz is silent for a long moment, and Lup almost regrets everything she’s ever said in her entire life.

He looks at her and Lup can _see_ him assessing whether or not she’s serious. _She can’t be serious,_ he’s thinking. She knows it. She wants to die. She wants to sink into the floor. Suddenly the beautiful dream that snuck into her head on the treadmill pops like a soap bubble.

But then Kravitz speaks.

“We’d have to find somewhere for you to finish your undergrad,” he says, and Lup looks up, and into his eyes, and realizes that Kravitz isn’t going to laugh or brush her off, or tell her gently that maybe she should look into something more attainable for someone in her… situation. That he really is everything Taako says he is, in that he takes them both seriously right down to his core, and Lup sees that if she tells him this is what she wants to do, then by God he’s not going to be the one to see her fail.

“It’s going to be a _lot_ of work,” he says, serious as the grave, and Lup can’t look away from his eyes the way they’re fixed on her, “and it’s going to be particularly hard on you. Law school is enough to take someone without a spot of mental illness on their record and drive them to a nervous breakdown. But if you’re sure you want to try…” he trails off, expecting an answer.

Something in Lup’s chest stretches and snaps at the thought of graduation, of the bar, of walking across a mirror‒clean marble floor, heels clicking, Kravitz by her side, on her way to kick some scumbag’s ass.

“Yes,” she says.

Kravitz nods.

“Okay,” he says, and then he grabs his legal pad and flips to a new page, scribbling something down and ripping the page out. He hands it to her, and when she looks, it’s a list of… names?

“These are five schools around the D.C. area at which I think you could finish your undergraduate degree. If you feel up to it, go look them up, and see what you think. If you need any help deciphering anything on the websites you can ask me, okay?”

Lup is flabbergasted. No convincing, nothing. Just like that. She looks at Kravitz, half sure he believes that she’ll look up the degree programs and just give up on it.

Well fuck that. She’s got it more together than he fuckin’ _knows_.

“Okay,” Lup says, and she gets up from the table to go get her laptop. She stops at the doorway out of the kitchen, looks back.

“Hey Kravitz?” she says, “mind if I come down here and work with you?”

Kravitz smiles.

“Not at all.”

*****

Taako must find out from Kravitz. He offers, once, to help her with her essays, with the application, and doesn’t ask again when she thanks him and brushes it off. He does drop a legal pad into her lap one day when he comes home, and a pack of pens, and smiles at her when he sees her sitting cross‒legged on the couch, staring at her computer and papers so spread out that no one else can sit.

*****

Barry’s going to go back to school too. He’s always wanted a PhD, and his masters may be almost a decade old now, and he may have no research experience, but someone’s bound to take them. He and Lup have study dates, now, and it’s almost like it was so many years ago.

It’s a strange dose of nostalgia, and yet nothing feels quite so present.

*****

Some days she still lies in bed until the sun is high in the sky, and wonders why she’s doing anything at all. The only difference is that now she’s got at least seven people she can text.

*****

One day she brings an SAT study book to the gym to read on the elliptical. Killian laughs herself to the floor, but Lup knows she’s proud.

*****

“You’ve never been to my restaurant,” Taako says one day over breakfast. Lup can tell he’s trying to be chill about it, but there’s something behind his eyes that has her locked in.

“I haven’t,” she says. Taako shrugs.

“You should come,” he says. “You and Barry. I can get you a table any time.”

“Okay,” Lup says. There’s something monumental going unsaid, but Lup can’t identify what it is.

*****

Lup’s going out with the girls on Friday night, so they decide on the day after. Taako says he’ll put in the reservation. Lup asks if she should dress up and Taako shrugs.

“It’s my fucking restaurant,” he says, “what are they going to do, kick you out?”

Lup dresses up, thinking of the magazine covers and the million-dollar-house.

*****

The place is cool, and quiet, and dimly lit, and most _certainly_ full of people with more money to their name now than Lup’s probably had in her whole life.

The hostess leads them to their table, a sweet little one for two with a very new‒age miniature flower arrangement on it and a gently flickering candle. Slightly secluded from the rest of the restaurant, and close to the kitchen, Lup has a feeling it’s a tough table to get. Everyone there talks in hushed tones. There’s the sound of running water from a feature somewhere. Gentle music. It’s almost a caricature of fine dining.

They’ve barely sat down when their server arrives, a sweet‒looking young girl with her hair back in a braided bun who can’t be older than eighteen.

“My name is June,” she introduces herself, and Lup realizes she’s nervous, “and I’ll be serving you and Mr. Bluejeans tonight, Ms. Taaco.” Nervous, but competent, she thinks. Good at her job, clearly. “The chef has already curated a meal for the two of you this evening, so there will be no need to order. I would tell you that if anything is not to your liking, you can let me know, but. Um.” Lup arches an eyebrow.

“What is it, kid?” she asks.

“The Chef told me to tell you that, um. If anything is not to your liking you can.” Poor girl is blushing scarlet, and Lup honestly feels bad for her, “that you can shove it up your ass, ma’am.”

Lup can’t help but break out into absolutely _raucous_ laughter, right there in the restaurant, and definitely gets a few dirty looks from the other customers, but she couldn’t give less of a shit.

“That sounds like my brother,” she says, giggles still slipping out between her words. “Good for you. I bet Taako thought you wouldn’t say it.”

The girl looks a little uncomfortable, but smiles all the same. Lup likes her.

“I’ll give you a few moments to settle in, ma’am, and then I’ll be by with the first course.”

The appetizer is delicious. Taako starts them off with several bite–sized plates, and a sort of… cocktail or something, light and fruity and refreshing. It’s in the place of wine, Lup can tell, and she’s touched that he’d put together something like it for her. As for the food, there’s a fascinating caviar twist here, a salad there, here a fritter that when Lup bites into it fills her mouth with a flavor so sweet and spicy she has to take almost ten minutes deciphering everything in it.

And Lup knew Taako was good, but not _this_ good.

It’s a masterclass in flavor. And so _very_ much her brother. Taako’s restaurant is so understated from first appearance, almost to the point of minimalism, and the plates are the same way. It’s nothing like the way Taako dresses, loud and decidedly tacky. It’s nothing like his cheap plastic sunglasses and the way he comes home half the time with shitty takeout. It’s sophistication like they used to make a mockery of, but Lup sees _intention_ . Every bite includes exactly as much flavor as is needed to communicate the food and no more. Every plate is designed to be exactly what it needs to be and to go no further. Lup can _see_ Taako bent over these plates, constructing each like it’s own tiny jewel in a massive crown, each its own miniscule work of art.

It’s Taako beyond belief. So much given, but so much held back.

Lup is half overwhelmed by the time the appetizer course is done, and Barry looks the same, looks completely flabbergasted by what he just ate, even without the discerning palate that Lup’s curated over her own years in the kitchen.

The soup course comes next, two small bowls brought by June, a different selection in each. Lup’s is so spicy she almost can’t make it through, which is saying something for her. Barry’s is cold, light, delicate to the point of almost being… without flavor. Lup tries a spoonful in between bites of her own, and finds that on the first spoonful, somehow, all of the residual flavor of hers is cancelled out, her palate completely cleansed. Upon the second, she gets the taste. It takes a full half a minute for all the aftertastes to hit her, for her to get the full scope of it. It’s indescribable. It’s delicious.

“They’re a pairing,” she says to Barry.

“Huh?” Barry says, spoon halfway to his mouth.

“They’re a pairing,” she says, “they go together. Here, try mine.”

Barry sputters and chokes, not half as tolerant as Lup is for spice, but he does admirably, and Lup still thinks he gets it, because once he goes back to his own, his eyes lose focus for a second.

“Wow,” he says. Lup feels the same. There are no words for it. She wonders when Taako got so good.

Lup has to admit, she doesn’t think anything could beat the first two courses. So when June returns with the main course, she’s half prepared to be disappointed. Not out of lack of faith for her brother, but simply because she can’t conceive of anything more incredible than what she’s just had. June places the plates before them, the same dish for both of them this time, and Lup raises her fork in Barry’s direction. He chuckles, looking a touch overwhelmed, and they dig in.

Lup takes one bite and her eyes fill up with tears.

“Oh my god,” she says, and she just stares at the plate for a long moment, unable to move.

It’s the most incredible thing she’s ever tasted. It’s the most perfectly balanced food she’s ever had. It’s – it’s like nothing she’s ever –

It’s _hot_ but _sweet_ , and there’s something floral in it she can’t name. It’s got salt and it burns her tongue with capsaicin and caresses every sense she has, and Lup can’t understand it.

It’s _miraculous_.

She walks a line between shoving it all into her mouth as quickly as she possibly can and being unable to continue eating. Lup didn’t know that food could exist that was so good you almost didn’t want to eat it. It’s… it’s so much. She doesn’t even know what words can describe it. It’s hearty. It’s heavy. It’s strong. It bursts into her consciousness with a flavor so intense that she can hardly stand it. It pairs with her drink fucking _perfectly_ . And the aftertastes, the _layers_ of flavor – she feels like she has to wait for a full minute between each bite just to get everything that’s in there, and as she works her way through it, she keeps finding _more_ –

How did Taako _do_ it?

What could have inspired him to create something like this? How long did he work on it, perfecting every corner of it, making sure it was _everything_ like this?

It’s the best thing she’s ever tasted. It tastes like it was _made_ for _her_.

“Are you enjoying your meal, ma’am?” June says, and Lup didn’t even realize she was at her elbow filling up her water glass, and that Lup’s been staring down at her plate for God only knows how long.

“Yes,” she says, blankly, and then June nods and moves to check on another table and Lup says “wait.”

June does, looking at her expectantly.

“What’s it called?” she says, gesturing to the plate before her, “what does he call it?”

“Oh!” June says, smiling, “I suppose you two didn’t have menus, did you!” She laughs, high and bright, “That’s the dish that made the Chef famous. It’s his signature. The Chaalupa.”

Lup feels like something’s ringing in her ears from very, very far away.

Maybe she thanks June, maybe she doesn’t, but she’s sitting alone at the table with Barry, who might be saying her name, concern laced in his voice, but Lup pays him no mind, because –

She never knew what it was Taako did in those years Lup was gone. It’s a subject they still haven’t breached, but Lup can see it now - 

She takes another bit. It explodes on her tongue, passion –

Because she can see it so clearly, Taako in culinary school while Lup was abroad, and getting the call – or seeing the news – trying to call her, and getting nothing, and while Lup was off getting her sense of self completely _fucked_ by the goddamn _war zone_ she was caught up in, she can see Taako going home to an apartment all on his own –

Another bite.

She can see him, through the classes, and then when he stopped going, all the time waiting for her to come back, calling whoever he could and finally, finally accepting one day that she was gone, finally realizing that she _wasn’t coming back_ – she remembers the disbelief in his voice when she and Barry called him from that medic’s tent on the Red Cross nurse’s borrowed phone –

Another.

She can see him now, in a kitchen, bent over a counter, mixing and layering and tasting, not quite right, not quite right – she can imagine him, frustrated, angry in the way he never gets, throwing the metal bowl against the wall after hours in a fit of passion, a demi–chef and nothing more, trying so _hard_ to get something right – she can see him, angry, frightened, grieving tears in the corners of his eyes as he cleans up the mess –

A sip of her drink. It brightens the whole thing. Lup thinks she might be crying.

– can see him, trying his damnedest to conjure up the clearest picture of her he can, can see him imagining what she’d like, can see him going back in his memories to every instance they had cooking together, and pouring every opinion she ever had about food into _one_ _single_ , _extraordinary dish_ , one that would let him _remember_ –

Another bite.

– and every single rich _fuck_ who walked through the doors of his new restaurant, who wanted to hear what the buzz was all about with this new chef was given _her dish_ , the dish he _named for his dead sister_ – can see him placing it in front of politicians and lobbyists who he thought _killed her_ , and watching them choke on the spice of it, and forcing them to _know her_ , the woman they had _ended_ , forcing to witness her in the only way he could –

She takes a bite, and she tastes _love_.

 _Taako_ , who so rarely expresses his feelings in words, who so often _can’t_ , Taako – Taako, her brother, who _never_ forgot her the whole time, who was thinking of her every day when he came to work, every time he made the dish he named for her and served it up, _loving_ _her_ , to every person in the world he could. Taako, who created his own private epitaph, his own memorial for Lup, who made it every night and _never_ forgot her. Who _made sure_ he would never forget, and the world never would either –

Lup covers her face with her hands and _weeps_.

She never knew.

Taako built his new life on her memory. Taako’s success, Taako’s fame, all of it rests on this dish, this celebration of his sister, of _her_ . And Lup finally realizes that the whole time she was gone she was still Taako’s _heart_ , and it was bleeding every day onto plates and dishes and being served up hot. Taako created something he knew no one would understand but him, but he, every night, brought her to life in his kitchen over and over again, because he refused to live without her. Taako had not forgotten her, had not abandoned her. 

No one had known, _no one_ had understood, and it wasn’t because Taako didn’t care, it was because he cared so _much_ that he couldn’t allow anyone else to hold the memory of her the way he did. And yet he gave it to everyone, because even though she was _his_ , he had thought her too important not to share with the world.

It’s the greatest love letter Lup has ever received.

And it is this, the irrefutable proof of Taako’s love, that lays her bare and opens her up, spilling her feelings out all over the table.

She’s crying in the middle of the restaurant, and Barry’s standing over her, rubbing her shoulders, and Lup thinks June is here too, and she picks up her napkin off her lap and dabs at her eyes but it’s no use, and then she turns to June.

“Take me to him,” she says, “I need to see my brother.”

*****

She had thought that nothing in the whole world would feel better than Taako’s arms around her after she got off that plane.

This is.

Because Lup finally _understands_.

*****

“Hair up or down?” Taako asks, running his hands through it and frowning just ever so slightly at his reflection. He reaches down, adjusts his jacket again, and then his tie, and then he reaches up and loosens the tie again ‒ 

He’s going to make a mess of himself if Lup doesn’t intervene. She stands up from her chair in the corner, her gown swishing as she moves.

“Try it up,” she says, and she walks up behind him, taking it into her hands. “You’re going to look too much like a beach bum with it down.” 

“I am a beach bum,” Taako says, smirking, but his heart’s only half in the humor. Lup can see his hands shaking, but she ignores them in favor of pulling Taako’s hair back into a low bun at the nape of his neck, leaving a few flyaways framing his face.

“There,” she says, looking over his shoulder at him in the mirror. “Now you look just hipster enough.”

Taako laughs, a silly, breathless thing, and he puts his hand up as though to touch his hair before Lup slaps it away. He bites his lip. He furrows his brow. He smooths his jacket again ‒ 

Lup catches his hands and holds them, putting him into a weird hug from behind.

“Taako,” she says, “you look _fantastic._ Don’t touch another fucking thing.”

Taako sighs.

“I know,” he says, squeezing her hands, “I know, I just…” he gives another one of those little breathless laughs. “It’s just we’ve been planning it for such a long time, and I _know,_ I _know_ it’s going to be fine, I just keep _thinking_ , what if something changes ‒”

“Taako,” Lup says. “It’s going to be fine. Fuck that, it’s going to be _amazing_. You realize how strong you two are, don’t you?” she asks. Taako squeezes his eyes shut tight, takes a deep breath, his brow furrowed with nerves.

Lup goes about primping. She smooths her hands along his shoulders, tucks a lock of hair behind his ear. He really does look fantastic. She thought so ever since she went with him to the first fitting for the suits. 

And it’s an unrepentantly romantic wedding (she planned half of it herself, she would know) with just enough haphazard, mismatched energy to keep it honest. Late spring, Taako in a floral jacket, they’re holding the thing in a _garden_ and everything. It’s going to be absolutely gorgeous, everything he wanted. Everything _they_ wanted.

If Taako can just stop _freaking out_.

Lup sighs. She should’ve seen it coming, should’ve known better than to trust Taako to hold himself together on the day itself. He’s had _nervous groom_ written all over him since the day he was born. She just got caught up in the fact that for most of his life, not one man in the entire world could work Taako into a tizzy like this one.

“What if it changes things?” he says miserably, not opening his eyes, like if he keeps them shut he can keep it all from happening. “What if ‒”

“So what if, Taako,” Lup says, “it’s not like you two haven’t been through some shit before. What makes you think this is going to be so much worse?” Taako doesn’t answer. He looks very much like he’s concentrating on breathing.

Lup straightens his pocket square.

“You and Kravitz took care of me, didn’t you?” she says. “If you can stay together through that, I don’t think you need to worry about a _wedding_.” Taako doesn’t laugh at that. Lup was hoping he would.

She grabs him by the shoulders and turns him around until he’s facing her, grabs his face and holds his cheeks in her hands.

“Look at me, Koko,” she says. He opens his eyes, and Lup can see that he’s trying very hard not to get teary. “If you think that Kravitz is going to be anything other than _thrilled_ to see you today I don’t know what to tell you. That man loves you so much it’s almost scary.”

“It’s not about today,” Taako groans, and Lup cuts him off. 

“I already said you’re the strongest couple I’ve ever seen,” Lup says, ready to launch back into the reassurances, but then… she stops. She reaches down and grabs his hands, and lets him search her eyes when she looks back up.

“You’ve been waiting for this for _years_ , babe,” Lup tells him, soft and serious so he really gets it. “You look amazing, and it’s a beautiful day, and you didn’t have to cook a damn thing for a party for once.” He laughs at that one.

“Let yourself enjoy it,” Lup says, “you already live together. You already bought each other expensive jewelry.” Taako nods.

“You already love each other,” Lup says, “and you already know. Now let us celebrate it with you. All you have to do is _enjoy yourself_ , Taako.” Taako nods again, and Lup sees his eyes are really watering now. She pulls her handkerchief out of her pocket (because of _course_ Taako would choose a maid of honor gown with pockets) and she dabs at his eyes.

“Save that for the aisle,” she says lightly. Taako throws his arms around her and holds on tight.

“When did you get so fuckin ‒ eloquent?” he chokes out.

“When you sent me to your fuckin’ therapist, dumbass,” Lup replies, squeezing him tight. “Now get off of me, you’re going to get all rumpled and _then_ what will the tabloids say?”

He laughs again, giving her one more squeeze before pulling back. He really does look radiant.

“Thanks, Lu,” he says.

“Don’t thank me,” she says, turning around and walking across the room to where their bouquets are waiting on a said table, “you’re going to be doing the same thing when Barry finally gets his shit together and proposes to me.”

Taako makes a vague noise of disgust, and that’s how Lup knows he’s okay.

*****

The thing about walking your brother down the aisle is that you get to watch his fiance’s face the whole way.

You get to watch his eyes light up as you appear in front of everyone for the first time. You get to watch the gradual build‒up of tears as you make your slow progress down. You get to be present, there, in that moment, to feel his arm shaking where it’s linked with yours, to feel the satisfaction of everyone’s eyes on him. You get to watch the man at the other end of that longest and shortest of journeys experience more joy than he has perhaps since the day he was born.

You get to take your brother’s bouquet when you hand him off. You get to revel in the clasp of their hands as they begin to speak.

So much love is held in proximity. To be close in this moment is not only a blessing, it’s proof. Proof that you are loved enough to be included in the most sacred of moments between two people. Proof that if they’re going to be spending their lives side‒by‒side, you will be closely adjacent for all of it. Proof that you are wanted. This is why a place in the wedding party is such a coveted thing; it is one of the most universally accepted examples of _proof_.

Proof is a powerful thing. Some people spend their whole lives searching for even one example.

How wonderful, then, that in this moment, it is the farthest thing from Lup’s mind.

There’s a kiss, and the crowd stands, clapping, and Taako and Kravitz are laughing with their hands joined, and Lup - 

Lup is _happy_.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading, one and all. Please leave a kudos and a comment if you enjoyed what you saw here today. As always, you can find me @desiree-harding-fic on tumblr, where my askbox is always open should you want more.  
> I am, as always,  
> Your Desiree  
> <3


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